


The Time-Turner

by Yatorihell



Series: In The Darkness [33]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, ノラガミ | Noragami
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-19 03:45:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13696191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yatorihell/pseuds/Yatorihell
Summary: The sands of time are running out. Can the past be rewritten?Thank you Ina (@leopah) for beta-ing me <3Accompanying art by Pip (http://paperypiper.tumblr.com/post/150083595427/httpswwwyoutubecomwatchv-wfhauo2gc4)





	The Time-Turner

**Author's Note:**

> Song for the final section: Birden - Kanno Youko

Hiyori was already up and by Yukine’s bedside when Yato awoke.

Wide-eyed and scrambling out of bed, ignoring the ache in his arm where it was still tender from healing, he staggered across the room faster than Hiyori could catch him as he collided against the foot of Yukine’s bed, doubling over. His torso hit the bed, and Yukine grabbed hold of his uninjured arm.

“Are you okay?! What happened?! Where’s Sakura?!”

Hiyori propped Yato up under his armpit, helping him steady himself as he leaned a knee against Yukine’s mattress.

Hiyori started to explain how – after some sort of salvation spared them from the Dementors – a search party had been sent out for Yato and his missing friends, assuming the worst. They found Yukine in the forest shouting for Yato and Hiyori, and soon after found them and Sakura at the lake. They were taken to the infirmary, and Sakura…

“– She’s in the Dark Tower awaiting execution. The Dementors are about to perform the kiss,” Yukine finished.

Yato felt his face go white. Dementors were foul enough creatures, sucking any happiness out of its victim, but a Dementor’s kiss – that was excruciating; their mouth pressed to yours as they ripped your soul out.  

“But she’s innocent!”

Yato started for the door, but Hiyori caught his arm and dashed in front of him, placing her free hand on his chest.

“Yato, they won’t listen.” Hiyori returned his angry, desperate look with a firm stare. “We have to fix this ourselves.”

She dropped her hand, throwing an apologetic look at Yukine lying propped up on his elbows, leg elevated on three fluffy pillows.

“Sorry Yukine.”

Hiyori’s apology was met with a confused ‘ _eh?_ ’ as she stepped closer to Yato, reaching for a long, thin gold chain around her neck. She threw it around Yato, and he started at the sudden movement, cheeks tinging a soft pink Hiyori didn’t notice, fumbling for the pendant.

Yato looked at it curiously as Hiyori raised it between them, eyebrows knitted together in concentration. When he saw the three concentrate circular disks – the innermost holding a small hourglass –he knew exactly what it was. A Time-Turner.

“Where did you get that?”

“Professor Tsuyu,” Hiyori shifted, avoiding his glance between the Time-Turner and her heating face. “She gave it to me to help me keep up with classes.”

Yato watched in amazement as Hiyori spun the discs once, twice, thrice.

The room shifted, distorting as the Time-Turner worked its magic. People entered and exited the room in reverse, too quickly for either of them to catch their faces or the snippets of their conversations, until everything slowed and the infirmary was empty. The bed where Yukine haid lain moments ago was vacant, freshly made with white linen.

Hiyori took the chain from around Yato’s neck, dropping it under her jacket. “Where were we at seven o’clock?”

“Paddocks?” Yato guessed, looking around at the late sunlight streaming in through the window, not quite adjusting to the fact that they had just time travelled.

“We can’t be seen.” Hiyori took off to the infirmary’s door, peeking around before slipping through the empty corridors with Yato by her side.

They ran through the castle, ducking out of the way of occasional passersby as they made their way to the West Wing, bolting down the track to the paddocks.

Hiyori threw her arm out to stop Yato once they were within a stone’s throw of the paddocks. She pulled him to the side under a leafy canopy, huddled together to conceal them well enough not to be spotted, but enough to allow them to watch the unfolding scene.

Their past selves talked indistinctly before a silence filled the air, and moments later, a piercing shriek rang out, followed by stamping hooves and shouting.

Yato and Hiyori watched their past selves as they stumbled to their feet, desperately racing after Buckbeak and the cat. Only when the Yato and Hiyori of a few hours ago had vanished into the Forbidden Forest did they step out from the shadows.

“We have to catch Kugaha now!” Yato exclaimed, but Hiyori grabbed his arm.

“We mustn’t!” Hiyori’s face was deadly serious. “Awful things happen to those who meddle with time.”

Yato stayed silent, looking at the murkiness of the forest before them. They couldn’t catch Kugaha, and they weren’t allowed to be seen…

“We have to get there before them – us – whatever,” Yato shook his head. This was confusing.

Hiyori looked behind her. “We should circle around the castle.”

Yato weighed their options: go the forest and risk encountering some dark creature, or getting lost, or backtrack and risk being seen.

His eyes flickered to the side at the sound of scattering leaves and huffs. A silver flank came into sight between the leaves, and a lightbulb went off in his head.

“We’re safer staying off the ground.”

Yato staggered into the paddock, Hiyori close behind and quickly bowing to the flock of Hippogriffs regarding her with disdain.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re going to steal Buckbeak,” Yato said, throwing off the harness of the stormy hippogriff that peered at him with curious amber eyes, seeming to sense the urgency.

“We can’t steal a Hippogriff!” Hiyori protested.

“Fine,” Yato replied, barely paying attention to her in his hurry to throw the remaining reins from Buckbeak’s flanks, “we’ll liberate him!”

He was already on the lower slat of the fence and clambering onto Buckbeak before Hiyori could protest, throwing a leg over Buckbeak’s hindquarters. He took a fistful of feathers to pull himself upright, looking down at Hiyori’s open-mouthed horror.

“Just like a broom!”

Yato extended his hand to Hiyori. She took it.

Hiyori grunted as Yato hauled her up behind him, wriggling on the uncomfortable back of the Hippogriff and trying to put some distance between the two of them.

“Hold on!”

Hiyori’s shyness vanished at this phrase. She wrapped her arms around Yato’s middle like a vice as he spurred Buckbeak into a cantering flight. Hiyori screamed and squeezed her arms around Yato tighter as they took off into the sky.

The wind – and the tightness of Hiyori’s grip – stole Yato’s breath, blasting his hair away from his face and dragging tears out of his stinging eyes. Cold air surged under the strong beat of Buckbeak’s wings, settling into a powerful rocking motion that felt like they were sailing as they levelled out into a glide, broken by the occasional beat of wings.

The Forbidden Forest lay beneath them like a blanket, picturesque in the setting sun that seemed to set the sky on fire. The castle was a dim shape against the clouds, overlooking the Great Lake’s horizon mirroring the sun dipping into its unbroken surface.

Hiyori’s grip didn’t loosen – her face pressed hard against Yato’s back. No doubt her eyes were screwed shut.

“Open your eyes!” Yato shouted, not totally sure if Hiyori could hear him until he felt the hard but definite shake of her head still pressed to his back.

 _It’s been a while since she’s flown_ _since_ _the accident_ , Yato realised.

He felt a small smile tug at the corner of his lips when they dipped lower, Hiyori tightening her grip more as they came in for a bumpy landing. They both let off sharp “ _oof_ ”s from the harsh thump of the landing, Buckbeak trotting to a stop.

Yato looked around. They were at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, close to the castle. Above the peaked ridge he could make out the thin branches of the Whomping Willow blowing in the breeze. They were early.

Yato looked over his shoulder. Hiyori still hadn’t let go of him despite them being stationary, face buried against his back and her sharp breaths coming out hot against his jacket.

“You okay?”

Hiyori jolted at the question, coming back to her senses and quickly untangling her arms from Yato’s waist. “Y-yeah.”

She slipped off Buckbeak first, legs wobbling as she touched the ground. Yato rubbed the Hippogriff’s beak before joining her side.

“Now what?” he asked.

“We wait.”

They sat on the ground, Yato cross-legged and Hiyori with her knees drawn to her chest. Buckbeak ambled away, kicking through the underbrush in search of food.

After a few minutes indistinct shouting came from their left, and Yato pointed at the small figure clambering up the valley, shortly after two others joined him – their past selves.

Yato and Hiyori sat in silence, watching them climb the hill before vanishing over the ridge. There was a painstakingly silent moment. Then the screams started.

Yato’s eyebrows drew together, knowing what was going to happen next: the Grim sinking its teeth into Yukine’s leg, and his helpless face as Yato failed to pull him out of the darkness.

Yato chewed his lip, feeling as useless as he had when he’d seen the Whomping Willow shudder to life and lash out with an echoing thwack. Hiyori’s screams followed, ensnared by the branch coiling itself around her waist and tearing her from Yato’s grasp.

Her figure on the branch was tossed around like a ragdoll, until the shape doubled in size – Hiyori picking him up, Yato guessed – before he could see himself sailing towards the ground and into the tunnel.

Yato winced when he saw Hiyori being flung into the willow, recalling how seconds later she had landed on top of him.

Hiyori hissed empathically as she too recalled the impact. “Did I really fall on you again?”

By _‘again’_ Yato assumed she meant the first time they’d met – when she’d crashed into him at full speed and crushed him half to death. “Yep.”

Hiyori flushed, thankful that the fading light hid her flaming cheeks. “I’m sorry!”

“It’s fine.” Yato kept his eyes fixed on the Whomping Willow.

A long pause followed, each of them counting the seconds that ticked by which turned into an age of worried silence. The night had wrapped itself around them, the moon dim behind the clouds dragging across the sky and shedding silvery lighting on their faces. Buckbeak’s attention turned from the ground to the sky, snapping at the few bats that flitted in and out of the Forbidden Forest for their night-time hunt.

Hiyori shuddered. Even though it was nearly summer, the nights were still chilly. She didn’t notice Yato sneak a glance at her from the corner of his eye. Instead, she was thinking through the events they’d gone through, estimating where they should be now, and if they would be out soon.

The conversation at the Shrieking Shack came to the front of her mind. Everything Sakura had said about parents, family, and about getting Yato back. How could Yato mistake her for someone he feared?

Yato started when she turned to him, thinking she had caught his wandering gaze.

“Hey…why were you scared of Sakura?” Hiyori asked, carefully phrasing the question. After all, his reaction to her identity that day in Hogsmeade hadn’t exactly been positive. Wouldn’t he have recognised her face, or even her name?

Yato frowned into the distance. “I don’t know.”

The answer was short, but it was all Yato had. A memory charm to stop him from remembering? Probably. Father wouldn’t rule that out as a way of keeping his children in check.

Hiyori’s eyes stayed trained on him as he slowly continued, piecing his life back together.

“I was only told after she went to Azkaban that she was one of the ones who carried out… the purging.”

Hiyori tensed. She wished she’d never asked, bringing up his parents like this, but still Yato continued with a softer tone.

“But now I know she’s family…she tried to save me…”

Hiyori moved closer to Yato, legs dropping into a crossed position and grazing Yato’s knee. “What happened?”

“There was a… recruitment, for Father…” he struggled to say. “He used the Dementors to keep us imprisoned.”

Yato didn’t go on. He didn’t want to tell her what the recruitment was for. The past he’d kept secret, the reason he had no home, and why he was so apprehensive of the Dementors when they circled his new home the same way they had all his life…how could he tell Hiyori any of it?

“I thought your parents are -” Hiyori started, trying to phrase it delicately. But she didn’t have to.

“They are, that’s just what we had to call him.” Yato said. He looked away. “Orphans aren’t missed if there’s no one to miss them.”

Hiyori wondered what he meant by _‘we’_.

“Sakura missed you,” Hiyori said gently, and a small laugh shook Yato’s chest.

“Yeah…”

A beat passed, broken by the whispering leaves. Hiyori fiddled with the hem of her jacket, looking for something to say. Something that wouldn’t trigger any more unhappy memories.

“Maybe she knows your birthday?”

A smile tugged at Yato’s lips. “Maybe.”

New motion on the hilltop caught Yato’s attention. He scrambled to his feet alongside Hiyori, all previous conversation abandoned.

It was about to happen.

The Whomping Willow swayed, branches suspended as their past selves were marched out of the tunnel with Professor Daikoku, Kugaha and Sakura leading the way while in chains. They watched with bated breath for the first cry. It came with a pained scream that morphed into an ugly noise.

Yato tensed, the moonlight revealing the werewolf Professor Daikoku in a grotesque silhouette which lunged at the group. A sharp squeal told him that Sakura – now transformed – had locked her jaws on the werewolf in an attempt to save them before her own yelp followed.

Yato’s body moved on its own, desperate to stop her being hurt even if it meant changing time. Hiyori grabbed his arm, pulling him back as he tried to follow the retreating forms running across the landscape before dashing into a forested area on the slope before them.

Their advantage was undesirable, but they could see everything that was happening: The werewolf’s claws slashing the wolf’s chest before throwing her down on the ground. It stopped with the arrival of a new presence. Yato remembered that this was where he came in.

The werewolf moved, standing tall on its hindquarters and ready to strike Yato down.

Hiyori now rushed forward, cupping her hands around her mouth. A high-pitched howl filled the air.

“Hiyori!” Yato hissed, grabbing her elbow and pulling her back. She shook him off, calling again.

Yato’s eyes darted to the werewolf, which had paused, claws dropping from Yato’s past self at the call. He looked back at Hiyori, making the connection – there was no other werewolf. It was Hiyori.

The second connection came a fraction too late as the werewolf turned tail, racing down the embankment towards the caller. To them.

Hiyori cursed under her breath, she and Yato turning on their heels at the same time and fleeing into the Forbidden Forest. Their breath came out in short pants and stutters as they ran blindly over roots catching their feet and making Yato trip and crash on the ridge with a pained grunt.

Hiyori skidded to a stop, stumbling back to haul him to his feet and frantically looking behind them as the sounds of growls and scattering leaves grew closer. Her hand caught his without hesitation. She pulled him up and they skidded down the embankment behind the trunk of a tree.

They kept their backs pressed close to the tree, fighting hard to keep their breathing quiet as the quick paces of paws dragging through the earth came nearer. Their hands squeezed each other tightly at the sound of its snout snuffing at the ground.

Hiyori pulled Yato’s hand, urging him to move away from the noise. The quiet scuffs of their shoes in bracken should’ve gone unnoticed, but the werewolf was ahead of them. It had already circled around the trunk, waiting in the clearing as Hiyori’s and Yato’s backs came into view.

They only realised their mistake when the werewolf gave a low growl and spun around in time to see it preparing to throw itself at them and tear them apart.

Yato instinctively wrapped his arms around Hiyori, pulling her against him and shielding her with his back, a feeble attempt to protect her from the raised claws.

The blow didn’t land. An updraft of wind ripped through their hair accompanied by the thundering of hooves and the beat of wings, and when he looked up, Yato saw that they had a saviour. Buckbeak.

Rearing up with his hooves, the Hippogriff lashed out, catching the werewolf in the chest with a pained squeal that turned into a snarl.

Yato kept his grip on Hiyori firm, head bowed down on her shoulder so he wouldn’t have to watch the scene. His teacher – his _mentor_ – had been turned into nothing but a bloodthirsty creature that wanted nothing more but to rip them apart, and his loyal friend risking his life for them.

He could feel Hiyori’s heart racing, out of sync with his own. She hid her face in his dirt-stained jacket, her fists bundled against his chest to cover her face, short quick breaths panting against him as the screeching and snarls died down and stopped altogether.

Yato raised his head at the sound of leaves, finding Buckbeak flapping his wings at the retreating form of the werewolf before he turned his head back to Yato, unblinking amber eyes sombre.

Yato nodded at him before bowing his head down to Hiyori, speaking gently. “You okay?”

Hiyori nodded into his chest, and Yato squeezed her a bit tighter, so close that anyone who might’ve come across them may have thought they were more than friends.

“Come on.” Yato detangled Hiyori from him and caught her hand with new purpose.

They ran through the forest, using the moon as a guide. It lit their path to the small lake which they rounded, searching desperately for Sakura. They skidded to a halt at the sound of a scream, whirling around to the source. The frozen lake peeked out from a fringe of dark evergreens accompanied by a bright silvery light.

Yato threw himself down the treacherous path, tripping over roots and nearly taking Hiyori down with him. They skidded on the grey pebbled shoreline, and across the lake, they could see their past selves and Sakura.

Dementors circled them, the silver light gone, and an agonised scream came from Hiyori’s past self. Hiyori watched herself keel over, a dead weight in Yato’s arms as he called her name whilst uselessly fending off the Dementors.

Yato’s chanting faded as a Dementor came up from behind, drawing his lifeforce with a piercing scream which left him powerless as the creatures grouped together to feed on Hiyori and Sakura.

Hiyori felt like a blow had hit her as Yato fell to his knees over her unconscious body, head bowed. Her vision blurred. “You’re dying…”

Instinct took over.

Yato rushed forward, his wand slipping into his hand and finding a point in the sparse canopy above them.

He wouldn’t let anyone die.

“ _EXPECTO PATRONUM!_ ”

A brilliant light pulsed from his wand – far more powerful than any other time he had used the charm – and rippled the air with a blazing rush of warmth. Yato kept his eyes wide open, amazed at the force of the Patronus he had produced. The wispy light shifted and warbled, streaking across the sky before taking a shape he couldn’t quite make out, small but quick as it raced across the ice on light feet.

The shimmering of its comet-like tail streaked through the seas of Dementors, repelling them which such exhilaration that they blew away like dead leaves into the dark forest. All was suddenly quiet.

Yato dropped his wand, watching his past self staring at him as the charm wore off, leaving the air clear and Yato falling unconscious beside Hiyori.

Yato understood now: the light that he had seen back then was himself. His Patronus.

His eyes dropped to the figure trotting across the ice, the Patronus dispersing as the magic faded. Its tail trailed stardust which tinkled into the melting ice.

It had nearly faded completely by the time Yato could make out its figure, but unmistakably from its round eyes and pointed ears, and the distinctly dark and light patterns of its fur, Yato could see what form his Patronus had taken.

A tortoiseshell cat.

 

~

 

“It was me!” Yato said, breathless as he and Hiyori ran back up the slope towards the Whomping Willow. “We time travelled, and I made the Patronus!”

“Now what?” Hiyori panted, her hand slipping from Yato’s as the path grew steeper and steeper. Yato caught her elbow, steering her ahead of him and keeping a hand on her back to steady her.

“We have to break Sakura out of the Dark Tower, before the Dementors perform the kiss.”

Yato called Buckbeak when they came back to the clearing where he had saved them from the werewolf. He didn’t bother to wait for a bow as Buckbeak folded his forelegs to allow Yato to climb on.

Hiyori, less hesitant now, pulled herself up behind Yato and wound her arms around his waist. They cantered into the sky a heartbeat later. She kept her eyes screwed tight, the tilts as they glided through the night making her heart do somersaults.

“Open your eyes!” Hiyori heard Yato shout again.

She was about to shake her head when she paused. This feeling of flying on the back of a noble creature with her arms wrapped around the boy she liked was calming, she knew she wouldn’t fall. And she wouldn’t get a chance like this again.

Very slowly she opened her eyes, feeling the initial sting of the wind which brought tears to her eyes until they were wide open, looking at the expanse of stars laid out before them.

Hiyori pressed her cheek to Yato’s back, arms loose around him as she smiled, drinking in every detail of the moment. The breeze that made her hair stream out behind her wasn’t as harsh with the warmth she was pressed against, the softness of feather and fur which rippled and swayed with every gentle manoeuvre, and Yato’s comforting smell enveloping her in a peaceful ambience.

Yato looked back over his shoulder, the top of Hiyori’s head against him making him smile. Her fingers had laced together over his stomach, leaning against him comfortably as they rode the wind.

He leaned his head back slightly to look up at the moon. _This is nice._

The castle was closer than he anticipated as Buckbeak circled the outermost towers, wingspan gliding through the turrets and past the soft candlelit windows like a ghost.

Yato gripped Buckbeak’s feathers as they came in for landing on the smallest tower in the centre of the castle, muttering a warning to Hiyori, who straightened up and clung to him as Buckbeak clattered onto the cobblestones.

They dismounted, running to each tiny cell and clinging to the bars as they peered into the gloom in search of Sakura, hissing her name.

Yato heard his name and he spun around, seeing Hiyori gesturing at a cell adjacent to the one he stood at. Yato ran forward, telling Sakura to take cover and sweeping Hiyori behind him.

He aimed his wand at the lock. “ _Bombarda!_ ”

Stone and metal blasted apart, and Yato and Hiyori covered their faces as chips of rock peppered their skin. The door, a mangled mess now, swung open and Sakura stood staring at them.

“How…” Sakura’s question trailed off, but couldn’t finish due to Yato grabbing her hand and pulling her over to Buckbeak.

“I’ll explain on the way.” Yato urged her forward, swinging himself up onto Buckbeak behind

Hiyori who had already mounted, fingers entangled in his feathers.

Sakura didn’t hesitate. She pulled herself up behind Yato and Buckbeak launched them over the edge of the tower, free-falling before his wings spread out and took them on a low glide away from the prison.

Yato kept his arms around Hiyori – as did Sakura around him –, using his knees to guide Buckbeak around the school grounds. He quickly explained how Hiyori had a Time-Turner, and how they had used it to save her as well as themselves from the Dementors.

Sakura dropped to the floor in one of the lesser-used courtyards edging the school once Buckbeak had landed. The Hippogriff tossed his head with a snort as Sakura backed away to look around the deserted passageway in case her escape had been noticed. It seemed it hadn’t.

She looked back at Yato who quietly dropped down next before helping Hiyori slide down off Buckbeak. He awkwardly placed his hands on her waist as she carefully wriggled off the Hippogriff’s broad back and landed squarely in front of him, hands on his arms.

Their blushing moment was interrupted by Sakura coming between them. They stepped away from each other quickly.

“I can’t thank you two enough for what you have done.”

Yato looked her square in the eyes with a determined face. “I want to come with you!”

“You can’t,” she said softly. “You have to stay here.”

“But-” Yato started to argue but Sakura pressed a finger to his lips.

“It’s too dangerous.”

A beat passed. Yato looked at the floor, biting his lip and facing her again with moist eyes.

“I don’t want you to go.” Yato’s voice broke. Sakura’s finger trailed against his cheek, wiping away the tear. She studied his face.

“Yato, I want you to remember this.” Her voice was soothing, every word clear and simple. “You always were – and always will be – loved.”

Sakura’s eyes flicked to Hiyori as she said this. Her eyes were misty, arms wrapped around herself as she watched the tragically sweet scene.

“Goodbye, Yato.”

Yato hugged Sakura tightly, face buried against her shoulder. She was ragged and tired and not even his sister, but she was still his family.

She returned the embrace, then detached herself from him with wet eyes as she crossed the short distance and swung herself back on Buckbeak. He stomped his feet on the ground, tossing his head before he cantered around the courtyard, wings beating a few times before he took off.

Hiyori sidled up to Yato, her hand finding his and giving it a sympathetic squeeze. The sky had lightened into a sunrise, painting the sky in pinks and oranges with the shrinking silhouette of the Hippogriff and the Prisoner of Azkaban.

They were both quiet until they had completely vanished from sight.

“There’s only one problem left.”

Hiyori looked at Yato as he spoke, panic on her face as her mind flashed through the evening, wondering where they’d gone wrong.

A wry smile slipped onto Yato’s face. “I still don’t know when my birthday is.”

**Author's Note:**

> God damn, the Yatori is getting real.  
> One last chapter before we wrap up the Prisoner of Azkaban arc!  
> As always, comments are kudos are appreciated ~


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